Three Candles for Donnie
by JoyJababaNoid
Summary: It's Donnie's third birthday and everyone is gathered in the den for this special occasion. Splinter grieves that he cannot give his son anything of any real value in such trying times. And why is Don looking so curiously at the three candles?


**A/N: Hey everybody! This is my first fan-fic EVER, so please so easy on me... I would appreciate any criticism and comments people have for me. Thanks!**

**Oh, by the way, this story is an early birthday present for my dear friend Pinguin1993. It's her birthday on Monday and I just wanted to give her a little something for paying so much attention to little ol' me and for being my friend. ^_^ Sorry I didn't make it about your fav TMNT character, Pingiun. I didn't ask until _after_ I wrote it. Stupid of me, I know, but I did manage to write a little something extra for him in the end. I hope you like it! I'm not sure how this story came to be, I just started writing and it just came to me. But I thought about you the whole time! So no, this story has no meaning at all. :P**

**And another note, this story was partially inspired by candelight and all her awesome chibi turtle fics. Thanks girl!**

**Okay, sorry for the long author's note, but this is my first story, give me a break! And I don't own the TMNT or any other TMNT character. Apparently, Nickelodeon has the rights to them now. Freaky, I know. The world's gonna explode pretty soon, but what are you gonna do?**

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Three small, flickering candles danced in the darkness. They illuminated everything surrounding them - the four boys, and their father. They were puny, pathetic looking things, barely casting any light at all. But one of the boys loved them, in all their mismatched glory. They sat atop a throne of a muffin that was just barely bigger than a normal muffin, and almost completely molded over, but not quite.

The candle wax dripped meticulously off the edge of all three of them, especially the shortest, fattest, greenest one. But the boy didn't mind. None of them did. The father was just happy he had even _found_ these candles amidst his earlier scavenging. They were hidden beneath a hoard of disgusting napkins, in the dump above ground, but he found them eventually nonetheless.

The birthday boy's light brown eyes twinkled in the firelight. His cold skin reached for the warmth of the fire, but his father's hand gently pulled his curious hand away. Never had the boy seen something so beautiful. He had often seen fires that his father made on the concrete floor, but never one so small. It was so pretty and sparkly.

"Bow 'em out, Don!" One of the other boys shouted. He had darker skin and golden eyes. "I wanna turn!"

"Me first! Me first!" Another boy said. He had blue eyes.

"Now my sons, we must first let Donatello have his turn. It is his birthday after all." The father said; his voice much stronger and vibrant than his little son's voices. They respected his voice, it was calming.

The boys quieted down again and waited for Donatello to take his turn. He continued watching the candles flicker aimlessly and never blinked.

"Donatello, do you not want to blow them out?" The father asked.

"Nuh-uh." He replied.

"Why NOT?!" The blue-eyed boy cried again.

"Yes, why not?" The father asked.

"I don' want 'em go away." He replied, matter-of-factly. The father blinked and twitched his whiskers a little.

"Don't you want to make a wish?" The father asked.

"Yeah! An' open presents!" The other boy, who had been quiet earlier, joined in. He had chocolate brown eyes. Donatello remained quiet a minute and continued staring at the candles.

The father leaned down to where his ear was and whispered to him. "I can always light them again, my son." He said. Donatello thought for a moment, then agreed and blew out the candles in one giant puff, spit flailing accidentally. The others cheered and asked for their turns.

Splinter, the father, let the others take a turn blowing out the candles, knowing they would grow out of that habit when they were older. He didn't want them thinking he favorited any one son over the other.

When the other three took their turns, Donatello asked for another turn of his own. Splinter knew they were running short on matches, but after "Donnie" – as the others like to call him – gave him a set of teary eyes, he couldn't refuse. He lit the candles again.

"No fair! Why he get two?" The golden-eyed child whined.

"Well, it is his birthday after all." Splinter sighed, saying again. He often thought that maybe letting each of his sons have separate birthdays wasn't the best of ideas. Giving them each the same date-of-birth looked appealing at times when they all complained about wanting the special birthday treatment: the biggest piece of cake – or in this case, muffin - presents and the such. But he knew they would grow out of those phases eventually. They were still so young.

It didn't look quite so appealing when he couldn't even find food for them to eat. What presents could he give them if he couldn't even fill their bellies? He still didn't even barely know anything about childcare, having just taken up the job not too long ago and didn't even know what children fancied.

He could guess though especially in trying times such as these when the cold weather was beginning to settle in. A warm coat perhaps. Or maybe a toy from the poor box that the adoption center had outside their doors. He sometimes took a toy from it to give to his little ones… when he wasn't caught.

He had found earlier that day a wooden car amidst the trash from the dump. A wheel was missing on one side but that was easily replaced. He was so excited to give it to his third son whom he named Donatello. He had shown a particular interest in vehicles of any kind when Splinter showed him a picture of one in a magazine.

And he knew his other sons were going to give him gifts as well. Michelangelo was to give him a small box of crayons he had scavenged all by himself. Raphael was to give him a penny he too had found on his own. And Leonardo, bless his heart Splinter thought, was to give him his teddy bear. He had not found anything worth giving in the sewer tunnels so instead insisted he give him his old, ratty teddy.

"It too yucky…" He had said when he gave it to Splinter to wrap in plastic bags (instead of wrapping paper). Splinter had smiled at him. Leonardo had grown to be the most giving of his brothers, even in his young age of three; he was the one to look out the most for them. He always made sure they were not fighting or stayed closest to the den. Splinter was so proud of him, of _all_ of them.

"Bow 'em out already! Gosh!" Raphael yelled. Stuck in his memories, Splinter had forgotten about Donatello. The birthday boy was still staring at the three candles.

Splinter laughed. Sometimes these children surprised him. He loved those moments. Poor, curious, little Donatello. He was fascinated by the tiniest of things sometimes.

"Donatello," He began, once he collected himself. "Perhaps it is time you opened your presents now."

The candles were almost completely burnt out; the wax had all melted onto the top of the muffin. Splinter knew he'd have to wipe it off before his little garbage disposals started munching away. Donatello still did not stop staring. The other boys had already sat amongst themselves and started playing something else on the floor.

"_Iie_, _onegai-shimasu_." Donatello replied. He only spoke in Japanese when he was being respectful to Splinter. That was the only time he was taught to speak Japanese. Splinter couldn't guess why he spoke it now.

"Are you sure? Your brothers might play with them before you, if you don't start opening them." He warned.

"_Iie_, _onegai-shimasu_." He replied again. His eyesight never wavered away from the dying candlelight.

Splinter smiled. Though at times he wished for everything in the world to give to his children, often they did not want anything more than what they had. He could not understand what Donatello found so intriguing in the small birthday candle, but he knew he would not have to worry about the presents anymore. He knew "Donnie" was well entertained.

Especially when he decided to burn himself on the flame.

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**A/N: Thanks so much for reading! I hope you all liked it (especially you Pinguin! I hope it pleased you). And don't forget to check out Pinguin1993 and candelight's profiles and stories. If you liked this, you'll probably like theirs a whole lot more. Thanks for reading!**

**~JababaNoid**

**God bless everyone!**


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